The Anti Damsel
by Guenelyn
Summary: She's supposed to be the girl he doesn't have to worry about.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, Guen here, back from the...writers block :) So this is my first foray into NCIS:LA, and I have to say that I am super excited to be here. This one is Deeks/Kensi, and they are my absolute new favorite not-quite-a-couple couple. This takes place sometime after episode 2.15 "Tin Soldiers", so I guess just to be safe I'll say there are spoilers up to and including that episode. This came about when my mind started contemplating the more serious side of Deeks a la 2.1 "Human Traffic", and what might bring that side out in him. This is what I came up with. Enjoy!

* * *

She's supposed to be the girl that he doesn't have to worry about. So why is it, he wonders, that since he's joined this issue-laden family they call an NCIS team, worrying about her is what he's been doing more often than not?

She can take care of herself, as she's so prone to remind them all, but he can't help but sometimes see her as the damsel in distress. She is the only girl, after all, and though she's highly trained, she's still smaller and weaker and therefore worthy of protecting in his book. He tries not to examine too closely the overwhelming need he feels to be her knight in slightly dented armor.

Even as he glances down at the text message he'd received only moments ago, and his gut clenches in what can only be described as dread, he wonders what sort of trouble she's gotten herself into now.

_SOS. Back room. Fern._

That's all it says and he tries to remember as he buttons his pants and throws on yesterday's shirt that if it was a real and true _emergency_ she would have sent out an "Agent Needs Assistance" Alert and he would not be the only one searching for his car keys at two in the morning.

It's six blocks to the club where they'd done their first…second?... undercover op together. The op where he'd labeled her Fern and she'd glared her mismatched Kensi "I'll get you back later", glare. He hopes he hasn't misread her vague clue as to her whereabouts. He prays that this partner thing has panned out far better than anyone else seems to think it has, and that he's not on some wild goose chase while she's in trouble somewhere. And with each block he tries to forget the times he's come too close to blowing the partnership, to losing his partner. The time he let her get kidnapped by the Russians. The time he left her alone with that lying skeezeball Talbot, and she almost had her brains bashed in. The time he ran too far ahead and was unable to stop her getting hit by a car. The time he got made at a bar and almost blew her cover. He shakes his head in disgust and prays to every deity he's ever heard of that this is not the time he shows up at the wrong club and something terrible happens to her.

He pulls up to the valet outside of BALM and hands the young man his keys before heading for the doors.

"Joe," he says with a nod to the bouncer.

"Tim. Or is it Detective Deeks this time?" the larger man replies with a small smile. "Haven't seen you around here since that trouble with the high society chick."

"Been busy," Deeks replies. "Hey, I'm actually looking for someone, heard she might be here tonight. You remember my friend Fern…er, Agent Blye?"

Joe smiles. "Feisty brunette. Yeah I remember her. She came in about an hour ago. Haven't seen her leave."

Deeks lets a slow smile spread across his face. The less trouble Joe suspects here, the better. "She alone?" he asks.

"Seemed to be," Joe replies. "Your lucky night, eh?"

"It just might be," Deeks sighs, patting Joe on the arm and entering the club.

It takes a moment for Deeks's eyes to adjust to the muted lighting in the club, a moment longer to orient himself and spot the doorway leading to the private rooms in back.

The walk across the crowded club takes way too long in his opinion. Various patrons and employees stop him to say hello and welcome him back. He wants so badly to just shove them aside and run for the back where Kensi is supposed to be, but he knows he can't make a scene. They are only two agents, after all, and not even on official business. The last thing he needs is to get arrested for starting a brawl and spend valuable time explaining things to his not-so-understanding LAPD coworkers.

So he grits his teeth and attempts to make polite, if brief, conversations with those who stop him, until finally he is crossing the threshold into the back area of the club.

Now what?

He takes a few deep breaths and tries to think, but it's hard to think with the knowledge that somewhere close at hand his partner might be in danger. He realizes that this line of thought is getting him nowhere and, though it's hard, he pushes any personal concern he might feel to the back of his mind.

It wouldn't exactly be in his best interest to just start opening doors. People tend to get a bit irate when you interrupt their private time at BALM. He takes a few steps forward, listening closely for any sign of his partner. Of the doors that are closed, none looks more promising than any other and he is about to screw the risk and start busting them all down when something outside the final door catches his eye. He stares at it for a moment before bending to retrieve it. It's Kensi's cell phone. She's left him a bread crumb, clever girl. He smiles briefly at his partner's foresight before moving closer to the door.

He can hear the sounds of a struggle from inside the room, shoes scuffing on the floor, flesh meeting flesh, a grunt, a groan. His back teeth clench, and his muscles are so tight with the effort to remain in place that he feels as if he might snap in half at any moment.

No matter how much he wants to, he can't just break the door down, he tries to remind himself. He has no way of knowing how many people are in the room, if they are armed. He has no backup. Barging in might very well get his partner into even more trouble than she's already gotten her pretty little self into.

He holds his breath and listens more closely. The scuffling has stopped and he hears a growl that belongs unmistakably to his lovely partner.

"Let me go," he hears her demand. "Now."

He doesn't hear the other person's reply, but Kensi's gasp of pain has him drawing his weapon and edging the door open slightly. It wouldn't do to barge right in, but he has to know what he is dealing with and he can't stand there another moment and listen to her being manhandled.

The break in the door reveals a dimly lit lounge. Three well-padded couches fill the center of the floor, and there is a private bar in the far right corner. It is the far left that draws his eye, however.

There she is in the corner looking outwardly calm and collected even as he can see the anger and panic swirling in her dark eyes. He thinks back to another room, another time when Kensi was in need of rescuing, and all he can see is thin red lines and an impending doom. Just as quickly as that thought comes, it is replaced by another; it is not a bunch of criss-crossing lasers holding her in _this_ corner, but a flesh and blood man. This he can fight, this he can defeat, and he is all-too-willing to prove it.

"You don't actually think you'll get away with this, do you?" He hears Kensi ask the man, even as he silently glides up behind him.

"I think there's nothing you can do," the man chuckles, "and there's no one else here who cares."

"Think again, asshole," Deeks grits out as he places the cold barrel of his government issue Beretta against the back of the guy's head.

The other man freezes, but even as the elation of a job-well-done begins to fill him, Deeks senses that they are no longer alone.

Kensi confirms his suspicion a half-second later. "Deeks, behind you."

He spins even as the new addition to their little party knocks the gun from his hand and strikes at his head. The blow misses by centimeters and Deeks quickly maneuvers far enough away to make an attack of his own.

Meanwhile, the interruption has been enough to break the concentration of Kensi's captor and Deeks senses her use the opportunity to break his hold. Here is where he can stop worrying about her. Here, where she is within sight, within grasp, and doing what she does so well. Kicking ass.

Even as he makes a well-placed kick to his own bad guy, Deeks muses that he should probably just sit back and let her take care of the two men on her own. He grins despite the arduous fight he's currently involved in.

He manages to knock his sparring partner unconscious just as silence falls on the other side of the room.

"Kenz?" He calls, not looking up from where he's disarming his unmoving opponent. "You okay?"

For a moment she doesn't answer and he quickly glances up to find her watching him.

"Kenz?"

"Hmm? Yeah…I'm good."

He gives her a lopsided grin and stands up, moving to her side.

"So, you wanna tell me how you got into this mess?"

She's not small, not like the girls he'd dated back in high school while he was trying to prove himself. A late bloomer, his mother had called him. The skinny scrawny guy all the jocks had picked on. He'd shot up his junior year, filled out just about in time for graduation. By then he'd gotten himself a "type". Short girls, small ones that made him look and feel bigger, more like a man. And though he'd clearly overcome that gawky stage of adolescence, his type had stuck. And while Kensi Blye was clearly not some nymph-like princess, he didn't feel like any less of a man standing next to her. In fact, if she kept requiring saving like this, he just might have to reevaluate her damsel in distress potential.

"That," she says, pointing to the man who had held her against the wall, now lying unconscious at her feet, "is Nigel Himlay. The man we've been trying to corner for weeks."

He takes a second look at the man and discovers that she is correct, it is the man NCIS has been after.

He cocks an eyebrow at her. "And you just happened to run into him on the way to get a refill on your martini?"

Her eyes shift in that way he's learned reveals she's about to tell a whopper.

"Something like that."

"Bullshit," he states, crossing his arms over his chest. "Try again."

"He was here, I was here…" She makes a motion with her hands that tells him he's supposed to fill in the blanks on his own. He already has.

"You knew he'd be here." There's no question in his voice because he knows it's the truth even before he sees her eyes shift again.

"No, Deeks, how could I…"

He raises a hand to cut her off. "Do not lie to me, Kensi. You knew he'd be here and instead of calling in the team, you decided to pull a Callen and lone wolf this one."

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't argue.

"What the hell, Kensi?" He throws up his hands in disbelief even though by now he's come to learn that you shouldn't discount any crazy, off-the-cuff scenario wherever Kensi Marie Blye is concerned. "Have you got a fucking death wish?"

"I had it handled," she grits out, hands on hips, and he ignores the myriad of negative emotions fairly pouring off of her.

"Then why the cryptic text?" He asks.

"I thought a little backup couldn't hurt. You are my partner, after all."

He's in her face before he can stop himself. Hand raised between them though he knows it's probably a dangerous move. "_Couldn't hurt_? A little backup _couldn't hurt_? How in the hell were you planning on getting out of _this_ one on your own, Blye?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. "And don't even let the words 'I had it handled' pass your lips again, because you won't like my reaction."

"You're on dangerous ice, Deeks," she grinds out from between gritted teeth. "Get out of my face."

"I'll get out of your face when I think I've put some sense into you. Damnit, Kensi, you could have gotten yourself killed."

She rolls her eyes, then focuses them somewhere beyond his left shoulder. "I figured my partner would have my back."

"_Your partner_?" He almost yells. "_Your partner_ had no fucking clue you were here. _Your partner_ was sleeping soundly in his nice cozy bed until he got your fucking cryptic text message. _Your partner_ drove here with every worst case scenario flashing though his mind. It took every bit of strength _your partner_ possesses not to barge in here and shoot that fool," he finishes motioning almost violently to the man on the floor.

She stares up at him silently, the look in her mismatched eyes nearly undoing him. It's no longer anger he sees there, or even denial, but guilt, and regret, and maybe a hint of fear.

"I'm sorry," she whispers as she breaks his gaze and glances down at her hands. "I know I should have called you guys, but…" She shrugs. "I got the tip and it was late." She glances back up at him. "I thought I could handle it."

They stare at each other in silence for what seems like hours until the man behind Deeks starts to stir with a groan.

"I guess we should take them in, huh?" She says meekly. And it's that totally un-Kensi-like meekness that has him doing what he does next.

His hand rises seemingly of its own accord and touches her cheek almost reverently. It drops just as quickly and he's moving away from her, securing his subject even as she bends to put cuffs on her own.

"Let's go," he says and leads the way out of the room.

* * *

So there you go. I'd say they're a bit out of character, but I really don't think they are. We've seen the serious, almost intense side of Deeks before, and I think that even Kensi is smart enough to give in and apologize when she knows she screwed up. More to come, so stay tuned. And don't forget to let me know what you thought! Like I said, I'm new to this particular fandom, and reviews can only help me to improve. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

It's not until she's safely ensconced on the couch in the lounge back at OSP headquarters that the stupidity of her actions fully hits her. She'd gone after a subject. Alone. She pinches her eyes closed and rubs her forehead. Every rulebook of every agency ever invented probably starts with the same line, "never attempt an apprehension without backup". And she'd totally done just that. Deeks had every right to rip her a new one, she admits. In fact, she'd not be surprised at all if Hetty were to walk in just now and ask for her gun and badge.

A throat being cleared has her head snapping up, her first thought being that her maudlin predictions have come to fruition. But it's not Hetty's bespectacled gaze that meets hers, but the baby blues of her partner. Probably ex-partner now, she thinks with chagrin.

"Listen, Deeks, I…"

She watches his finger move to his lips, silencing her for a moment.

"Deeks, I'm…"

"Shh."

He's been silently moving towards her the whole time, his eyes never leaving her and she gets the feeling that he's examining her, dissecting every word and movement. He sees right through her; has from the very beginning. Even when they'd apparently been on opposite teams, he'd known something wasn't right. He sees too much in her estimation. Much more than anyone else has ever seen. And if he keeps looking at her like that she's afraid that he might see, despite her best efforts to appear otherwise, that deep down she's just as human as everyone else.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, and the question is so out of context to everything that has been said between them for the past couple of hours that all she can do is stare and nod.

He stops a few feet from her and his eyes narrow in that intense way she's come to recognize. "You sure?"

"Of course. Deeks, I want you to know that…"

He lowers himself slowly into the chair across from her and nods at her to continue.

"That I'm sorry. I was such an idiot. You're right, I could have gotten myself killed. And now, I guess you won't have to put up with my antics anymore, because Hetty will be here any moment to…"

"Taken care of."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, it's been taken care of."

She knows she's staring, knows she's looking at him as if he's grown antlers or something, but really, how can he think…

"Deeks, I tried to apprehend a subject without backup. I went in there knowing that he'd be there, planning to attempt a capture. You don't seriously think they'll let me keep my job?"

"Will it happen again?" he asks quietly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and steeple his fingers beneath his chin.

"No, but…"

"Then, it's taken care of."

Her mouth is open and she knows that if this situation were less serious he'd be warning her to watch out for flies. Even now the tiniest smirk has crept across his handsome face.

"Deeks…"

"Kensi, I said I got this one, okay?"

"Y-you covered for me?"

"If that's what you want to call it." He shrugs.

She can't wrap her mind far enough around that to formulate a reply.

"_If_ you had gone in there knowing that Himlay was there, with the premeditated plan to apprehend him on your own. _If_ you had done this without attempting to gain backup. _If_ your partner had had to save your stupid, sexy ass. Then yes, I imagine that your job would be on the line." He raises his hand to stop her when she opens her mouth to tell him that that is exactly what she had done. "However, with the exception of that last one there, you didn't _do_ any of those things."

His eyes cut through her in their intensity, telling her without words that this is the truth and she'd better accept it.

"Deeks…"

"What _happened_, Kensi, in case your slightly-frazzled mind has left you wondering, is that you went to that club last night to have a good time. You spotted Himlay at around 01:30 a.m. You attempted discreet surveillance for awhile, which the club's brand new security cameras will reveal. At precisely 01:47 a.m. you witnessed Himaly entering the back rooms of said club. Realizing that he might be attempting to make another deal, you followed at a discreet distance. Upon entering the back hallway, which is, as you probably know, not covered by the cameras, you discovered that you had been made and composed a hasty, if cryptic, text message to your partner. Said partner then, of course, busted in and saved your ass."

If there are tears in her eyes, they both ignore them.

"Deeks," she whispers, "you didn't…"

"I did."

"But…why?"

He scoots forward in his chair so that their knees are touching. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and takes her hands. And while she's never been the touchy-feely type, not outside of work and certainly not at work, she has to admit that his big warm, work-roughened hands feel very good wrapped around her smaller, slightly shaky ones.

"Because we're partners, Kensi. Because no matter how mad at you I was this morning, I was more scared out of my mind. Because, yes, you're a little crazy sometimes, but you always get the job done. Because while you _have_ needed a bit too much saving lately, there's no one else I'd rather have covering my back."

Her breath catches in her throat, and she forces herself to blink the tears out of her eyes. She'd known before this point that their partnership was growing, strengthening. She'd recognized her trust in him after the Russian Lazer Crisis as he had teasingly labeled it. What she hadn't realized until this moment was that the feelings went both ways.

"I trust you, Kenz," he says with a slightly lopsided grin, probably knowing that he's read her mind. "You can kick ass like nobody's business, and you've pulled me and the team out of more hairy situations than I can name. Most of your crazy schemes are pure, insane brilliance."

She laughs without humor. "Most of them. Not this one."

"It might've been," he says slowly, "if you'd remembered that we're partners. That I'm not just the guy who rides in to clean up the mess."

"I know you're not, Deeks."

"Good. Then it won't happen again. Because if you pull any more of this lone wolf crap I'm going to find all of your Hostess cupcakes and donate them to the soup kitchen."

"You wouldn't," she says with a grin.

"Try me," he says, returning her smile.

Her humor fades quickly and she looks down at their still-joined hands. "I promise it won't happen again, Deeks," she says, looking up at him though her lashes. "Really."

"Good." He squeezes her hands briefly before sitting back and grinning at her. "We're good then?"

She nods probably a little more emphatically than is absolutely necessary. "We're good."

"Callen and Sam are finishing up the interrogation," he tells her as he moves to stand up.

She grabs his wrist before she can think better of it. "Deeks, Himlay might know I was there for him, he might…"

"I got it, Fern. I might have cornered him alone for a moment after you left," he says with his customary cat-got-the-canary smirk. "He's under the impression that it was an organized strike and I was there somewhere as your backup. Callen and Sam have already heard my version of events, they'll just think Himlay misunderstood what happened. Which, apparently, he did. Don't worry about it."

She releases his wrist slowly. "Thank you, Deeks," she nearly whispers.

"Oh," he says a little too mischievously. "Don't think I'll let you forget this."

She's got a retort ready, but he's already left the room.

She slouches back on the couch and contemplates their conversation. He's gone and saved her again. Twice in just a few hours. Once from potential bodily injury, and once from potential unemployment.

He's not supposed to have to save her at all, she reminds herself. She is a fully trained and qualified agent, a bona fide bad ass. And yet she can't help but shiver slightly at the remembered look of complete male rage that had been in his eyes as he had taken in the scene she and Himlay had presented.

"_Think again, asshole."_

His voice had been hoarse, as if he'd had to force it out past all of the rage and violence. The same voice had reprimanded her for nearly getting herself killed. And it had reminded her that while Deeks is certainly laid-back and fun-loving, there is this other side to him. She realizes now, for the first time, that it is not just some façade he uses with the bad guys, it is not just a personality trait he's developed for his hard-ass undercover aliases. This is the real Martin Deeks, the one that comes out when backs are turned and all bets are off. The one that she's sure could and would destroy anyone that crossed him.

She is shocked to realize that she's seen it once before; when the dirty cop had taunted him over Traynor after her death. That the situation with Himlay would bring about that much emotion in him astounds her, but she doesn't question it further. Even as she had called out a warning and focused her attention back on Himlay, she had realized that she was glad he was there, that he had come to rescue her.

She can't help but melt a little when she recalls the way he'd just said she was the only one he wanted watching his back. He'd taken on a Russian gang, a room booby-trapped with lazers, various bad guys, and now Hetty. For her. She doesn't _need_ him to rescue her, not really. A little assistance, maybe and she can take care of it herself. Maybe it's just knowing that he could and would ruin the world to save her. Not that she needs him to, but the knowing, maybe…

* * *

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you guys keep me writing! And thanks to everyone who's reading and alerting and favoriting, I'm glad to know you guys are enjoying the story. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Probably one more to go.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, here's the final chapter in my little Kensi/Deeks drama-fest :) I just want to thank everyone who's been reading and reviewing and favoriting, etc. I definitely think I'll be back to this fandom sometime soon, I just can't resist delving into these characters. Was anyone else jumping up and down in fangirl (or fanboy) joy at the end of the last episode (2.20 The Job)? I thought so :)

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"How's Kensi doing?" Sam asks as Deeks enters the boat shed.

Shrugging, Deeks makes his way towards the table where the other two men are seated. "She's Kensi," he says, "hard as steel on the outside…" He leaves the sentence hanging, because he thinks they all hate to admit that no matter how tough she is, their female teammate is still human. "She'll be okay. I think she's more exhausted than anything. I mean, it's not like this is the first time she's ever been attacked, right?"

Sam winces, mirroring Deeks's thoughts on the number of times Kensi has found herself in danger.

"It's just a good thing you showed up when you did," Callen states. "It could have gone a whole different way if she hadn't been able to get back-up in there."

What Callen can't know is that Deeks has done nothing but run all of those "different ways" through his head over and over again since the moment he had Kensi safe. "I don't want to think about it," he mutters under his breath.

It's as much in an attempt to change the subject as it is to gain information that Deeks nods towards the television screen where Nigel Himlay is displayed, and asks, "Did you get what we needed out of him?"

One glance back at Sam and Callen shows him that they're not watching the criminal in the next room. They're watching him. And they're doing it in that way that he truly does hate. In that way that screams: _"We see you. And we're not quite sure yet if you measure up or not."_

And they do see. They see too much. Not the truth he's hiding about what really happened tonight, because, let's face it, they might be "born operators", but then so is he. No, they see something much more dangerous perhaps. Something he can't seem to hide from them no matter how hard he tries. They see that his partner is more than just his partner. That maybe she means just a little too much to him. In fact, they probably saw it before he did.

And Hetty. Hell, don't even get him started on Hetty. That petite ninja probably saw it before he and Kensi had ever set eyes on each other back in that sweat-smelling gym. Sometimes he gets the idea that he's only a part of this team because Hetty knew he'd be a good match for Kensi. Knew that they'd complement each other in ways that he'd never even dreamt of with previous partners. Knew that Kensi might just be able to handle his sarcasm and joking, and that he might just be able to get under that steely shell she keeps herself tightly wrapped in.

Probably, Hetty had known that once he was in, that once he was a part of the team, he'd be very like the puppy they sometimes compared him to; loyal almost to a fault. That nothing short of death would tear him away from them…from _her_. And that's exactly what she needs.

If Sam and Callen do see all of that, they choose not to comment. Instead, Callen launches into the details of what their interrogation on Himlay has revealed and Deeks breaths a sigh of relief. He's off the hook this time. He doesn't dare to hope that means he's off the hook forever.

* * *

She's asleep on the couch when he returns to the bull-pen to get his things. It's nearly six in the morning, and he knows that she'd never gotten to sleep last night. He pads silently over to the small seating enclave and retakes his seat across from her.

She looks so young in sleep. Of course, you'd never catch Marty Deeks calling her _old_. A: Because it isn't true, and B: because he values his life. But as she lies there on the overstuffed sofa, she looks like a fifteen-year-old just home from a stay-up-all-night slumber party, and with the not-so-partnerly thoughts he's had about her, he admits that's just this side of sicko.

Her eyelids flutter briefly and her chest hitches in a small sigh, reminding him sharply that she is all woman. It's the innocence that draws him, though, as he scoots to the edge of his seat and leans closer to her; an innocence that is hardly ever apparent when she is awake, though he knows it's there. He sees it in the way she enjoys her desserts; in the way her face still lights up when she talks about the Medieval Times restaurant; in the time or two he's caught her giggling with Nell; in the way she sometimes chews her thumbnail when she's nervous or aggravated.

But Kensi Blye has seen too much darkness to allow that innocence to slip out very often. She's taken lives, nearly had her own taken more times than he'd like to count. She makes a business in lies, and is forced to carry those lies into her everyday life. She's dangerous with her fists, deadly with a rifle, hazardous to his state of mind most of the time. She sees more of the world than any normal person would ever _want_ to see. And its hardened her, made her tough, independent, resilient.

He fights the almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her. To just assure himself that she is once again safe and sound. That that ugly world they're all exposed to day in and day out has not done her any lasting harm.

He knows she's not the damsel in distress. In fact, she's more like the anti-damsel. She's the fair maiden in the tower making a rope ladder out of bed sheets and determination. She's the princess who when faced with the dragon scoffs at the prince to, _"Put that damn sword away, I've got this one."_

And while no one would truly consider him a knight in shining armor, he can't help but wish that she might sometimes _let_ him save her. Or, better yet, that she might let him in just enough to allow him to share the burden….so that he might not have to save her…quite so much.

Unable to resist any further, he reaches across the small distance between them and brushes his fingers over her forehead, across her cheek. Her skin is soft and warm and alive under his fingers. Some of those very unpartner-like thoughts are just drifting to the forefront of his mind when her eyelids flutter open and she whispers his name.

"I'm here, Kenz." But it hadn't really been a question coming from her lips. It had been more like she'd been aware of him the whole time even though he knew she'd truly been sleeping. He doesn't stop to question why there had been no confusion in her sleep-bleary eyes, no sudden recognition upon waking. He simply allows his fingers to linger on her cheek for one more moment before pulling away and straightening up.

She's forcing herself awake now, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up on the sofa. "Is it done?" She finally asks him.

He nods. "Callen and Sam got a full confession. Case closed."

She stares at him a few moments longer.

"Good," she says.

"Let me take you home, Agent Blye." She's not crying, not shaking like any other girl might have been after a night like she'd had. If she was, he'd have been truly worried. But he can see the bone-deep weariness in the way she looks up at him and simply nods.

"C'mon," he says helping her from her seat. His hand is at the small of her back before he even realizes it and for once she doesn't shy away from the contact. It's only a moment before he's gathered their things and is leading her towards the door.

He's a little unnerved by how quiet and acquiescent she's being as he ushers her out the door and towards his parked car.

It's not until they reach her place that either of them finally speaks.

"Deeks," she nearly whispers into the semidarkness of the car. "Are we…are we okay?"

He smiles and turns to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, Fern, we're okay."

And just that quickly the tension evaporates.

"Don't call me that," she says with a small glare even as she opens the car door and jumps out.

He follows her, knowing that she'll probably kick him for it, but needing to know that she makes it inside okay. And needing these last few moments to be sure there was truly no harm done tonight.

"No?" he asks teasingly, "How about Kiki? That okay?"

"No."

"Sunshine? My sweet?"

She lifts her head from the lock she's currently unlocking and glares at him.

"Princess?" he asks with a hopeful grin.

He sees her eyes roll even as she manages to unlock the door and step inside. He watches her key in the code to her security system before she turns back to him with a slightly softer smile and a warm look in her mismatched eyes.

"I'll see you later, Deeks."

In that one moment he can see every emotion in her expression; Amusement, gratitude, caring… And then she shuts the door, leaving him on the doorstep grinning like a fool.

"Princess?" he calls "Princess?"

He can almost hear her chuckle as he turns back towards his car. He'll check back in on her later, once she's had a chance to rest, but somehow, in that moment, he knows they'll both be alright.

* * *

A/N: So there it is! My first NCIS:LA fic complete! Let me know what you thought!


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